Ingenue
by ghost-wiring
Summary: Based off Susan Kay's novel. Taking place before the arrival of Christine Daae, the phantom takes interest in a young maid employed in the opera house.
1. Prologue

Prologue

She sat on the cold, marble floors of the grand Paris Opera House, scrubbing vigorously as she hummed the aria from that night's play. The gigantic theatre had only opened a few months earlier but already it was an enormous success. She was very lucky she had gotten work there. Even though she was only but a simple maid, jobs there were in fierce competition.

Yes, very lucky indeed. Since she was a very young girl she had adored the operas and more importantly, their singers. From her childhood, she could still remember her mother singing the tunes from the shows that were in town, her voice rising and falling, matching each pitch perfectly. She often asked her why she didn't go sing for them in the opera houses. Her mother would always laugh and tell her to run along and play. She guessed her mother knew that they would never listen to a common woman sing. But that was what started her interest in the opera. From then on, she had spent much time around the opera houses. If she ever saved up enough extra money, she would spend it on the best seat she could afford. Listening to her mother and the other singers over the years, she'd even developed her voice quite nicely.

She lifted her voice slightly louder and began to sing, "_Addio__del__ passato bei sogni redenti."_ Singing louder still, she continued, "_Le rose __del__ volto gia…"_

She stopped abruptly as she noticed someone was singing with her. The beautiful, masculine voice finished, "_son pallenti_."

She gasped and looked around, startled. "Who's there?" her voice quavered. She looked into the auditorium beyond her and saw no one but the other ladies with which she worked, all of whom were too far away to hear their voices and didn't seem to notice that anything had happened. She looked above her into the rafters but didn't see anyone there either. This was not the first time she'd heard the voice. It had happened on a couple of occasions before, always that same beautiful, entrancing voice, singing along with her. It almost seemed like an angel was singing. Still looking around cautiously, she slowly sat back on the floor. Wiping away the last of the water on the floor, she deposited the scrub brush into the wash pail. Gathering the bucket, she stood and walked away.

She walked through the labyrinth of passageways that led to the back alley. Once outside, she dumped the bucket's contents onto the ground. Just as she was turning to leave, she screamed in surprise. With a closer look, she realized the figure that was standing in the doorway was none other than her best friend, Cecile. Cecile, who was a few years elder than her, had been her friend for many years. She reckoned they'd known each other since they were children.

"What's got into you?" she said, slight amusement in her voice.

Caressa sighed and walked back into the theatre. "Oh, it's nothing. I was singing in the foyer and I thought I heard someone singing along. It just frightened me a bit."

Cecile stopped walking and grasped her shoulder. "Are you sure?" she said, her tone becoming very serious.

"Sure about what?" Caressa asked, confused.

"About hearing a voice," Cecile quickly added.

"Well, no. It just sounded like there was one. Those foyer halls echo sometimes, it could have been my own voice." Cecile's grip loosened and she looked relieved. "Why? What's the matter?"

"Have you not heard the tales of the opera ghost?" she asked.

"No, I suppose not."

Dropping her voice to a whisper, she said, "There are rumors that a ghost lurks in this building, a hideous creature with a distorted face and skin as yellow as parchment. No one knows for sure if he's real. As soon as he's spotted he disappears. I'll tell you one thing's for sure though, I believe in him."

Caressa laughed and asked, "Why?"

"I saw him once. Standing up in the rafters way high above the theatre looking down. Just as every one says he disappeared instantly. Nearly scared me half to death!"

"Why Cecile, you should know better than to believe in ghosts!" Caressa said, continuing to laugh.

"The manager doesn't think it's funny. He always keeps box five open upon the ghost's request. I've heard that he even pays the ghost a salary!"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Who ever heard of paying ghosts a salary?"

"Well, believe what you will. But I'd be careful if I were you, 'specially with you hearing voices and all," Cecile said, her voice turning merry again. As they returned to the foyer, she asked, "So are you heading home now?"

"Yes, I suppose I should. It is getting late," Caressa replied.

Taking the wash pail from her she said, "Well, be careful. The streets can be dangerous at night."

"I expect I should be okay," she answered. "I shall see you tomorrow."

Cecile smiled and answered, "Bright and early!"

Caressa returned a smile and exited the building. She descended the long flight of stairs down to the empty streets. At the bottom, she looked back up. Suddenly, something in a window on the top floor caught her eye. She stared but she couldn't see it any longer. She could have sworn she'd seen the figure of a man standing there. She shrugged and began walking home. "I'm letting my imagination get entirely out of hand," she said to herself. Looking forward to climbing into bed, she picked up her pace and began the long journey home.


	2. Chapter One

Yet another successful night had passed at the opera house and Caressa found herself wandering the hallways behind the stage. She was being sent to clean the dressing rooms tonight. This was always an interesting job for her. When she found herself in the dressing rooms, she liked to imagine she was the star of the show, getting ready for another glorious night on stage. Of course, after visiting the dressing rooms several times, the effect had worn off a bit. Still, it was nice to imagine.

As she entered a dressing room and began tidying up, she began to sing to herself. "_Ave Maria, piena di grazia, eletta fra le spose e le vergini sei tu."_ As she finished the line, she heard a faint humming finish as well. It was the same voice she'd heard the night before, she was sure of it. She suddenly remembered what Cecile had said about the ghost. She shook her head, smiling. She couldn't let that fairy tale get to her. She took in a deep breath and began again, _"Sia benedetto il frutto, o benedetta, di tue materne viscere, Gesu."_ Again, she heard the humming finish slightly after her singing ceased. She listened carefully, hoping that the humming would continue, that voice which sweetly complemented hers. There was no voice but only silence. "This is silly," she said aloud to herself. She picked up the rag she'd been carrying and proceeded to exit the room.

As she reached for the door handle, that same soft voice sang out, "_Caressa__."_ She gasped aloud and turned around. There was no one in the room except herself. Her heart beating rapidly, she opened the door and ran out.

She stood there momentarily, catching her breath. There was no way she could have imagined that. The ghost had said her name. Though it frightened her terribly, it seemed to have given her a warm feeling as well. She wondered why the ghost was stalking _her._ Sure, other people claimed they'd seen him but none had said he'd spoken to them.

Trying to put these thoughts aside, she opened the door into the next room. As she closed the door behind her, she froze in place. A man was standing in the room, dressed in a finely tailored suit with a long black cloak trailing behind him. His hair was jet black and slicked back neatly, his skin was pale, and his eyes were an enchanting blue. But the rest of his face she could not see, for a white half-mask concealed one side. She felt the need to scream but she could not find the power to. It seemed all the air in her lungs had been sucked from her body. Her legs and arms began to feel heavy and her head began to spin. At last, she felt herself fainting, falling to the ground. The last thing she felt was the stranger's arms catch her. The strong, gentle arms embraced her as she lost consciousness.

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Her eyes slowly fluttered open. She was lying in an enormous bed, wrapped in fancy embroidered sheets that looked as if they'd come from some foreign land. The bed was concealed in a gossamer canopy that prohibited her from clearly seeing her whereabouts. At last, she noticed a faint humming from a distant room. It was the ghost, she was certain. She was unsure of what to do. Surely if he'd meant to harm her he would have done something by now. She remembered his strong yet gentle arms catching her before she fell. She didn't know anything about ghosts but from what she'd heard, they didn't have warm, gentle arms like that. Still, she was quite frightened. She listened to the heavenly voice humming its somber tune. It relaxed her mind and made her want to reach out and touch. After listening to the humming for quite some time, she found the nerve to get out of bed.

As she pulled away the canopy covering the bed, she found herself in a room decorated with many ornaments that seemed to have come from all over the world. Rich and warm colors accentuated every corner. Never in her life had she seen so many treasures in one room. She wandered through the doorway and into the next room. Before her lay a dark, murky lake that was topped with a translucent mist. _"I must be underground,"_ she thought, for the lake was surrounded by what looked like cave walls. Startling her out of her wonder, the voice began humming again. Her eyes were drawn to the opposite side of the lair where she saw the ghost. He was sitting hunched over a gigantic organ, scribbling something onto a sheet of parchment.

Though she hadn't made a noise, the phantom stopped writing and turned to look behind him, those enchanting eyes meeting hers. "At last, you awaken," he said, his voice deep and equally soothing.

Not sure of what to say, she finally answered, "Where am I?"

He stood from his seat at the organ and said, "You are in my lair below the opera house, though I am beginning to wonder if I should have bothered bringing you here at all."

"Why is it that you've brought me here?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

He walked closer to her but she did not shy away, something he did not find often. He studied her lovely face for a moment before answering, "Your voice." Before she could respond, he continued. "I've been studying you for quite some time since your arrival here. You have an exceptional talent that you do not seem to realize. You're voice is by no means perfect, but exceptional nonetheless. If I were to train you, I believe you could become something great." She remained standing there, studying him carefully. Her eyes seemed frightened, a look he was too familiar with. "Of course, you do not have to accept. You will not be the first to reject me." He turned away from her and walked back to the organ, sitting down.

She stood there a moment longer, her head spinning. This seemed so unreal. She must be dreaming. Not only had the supposed "opera ghost" kidnapped her and took her to his lair but now he had told her she had a beautiful voice and he wanted to be her teacher. Shaking her head, she walked until she stood behind him. "Begging your pardon, sir, I don't even know who you are," she said, her voice innocent and meek.

He turned around to face her, studying her carefully. She looked into his eyes, confusion prevalent on her face. He sighed and said, "Is it necessary for you to know the name of your teacher?" She nodded slowly. He paused yet again, still studying her warily, those burning eyes never leaving her face. "It is Erik. My name is Erik," he said at last.

Weighing all the information she'd just received, she thought about the consequence at hand. She was being offered singing lessons. He'd said she would become something great if she accepted. This might be the very thing she'd wanted all her life. Besides, since the moment she'd met this man, she'd felt he had no intentions to harm her. Sure, she was frightened at first but that was understandable. Not many people would be calm if they were captured by a stranger. If anything, she felt relieved by him. He certainly was a mysterious character—living underground beneath the opera house, scaring the opera's patrons, the mask that concealed his face. But despite these things she still felt she could trust him. "Then be my teacher, Erik," she said at last.

What seemed like relief and joy quickly flickered in his eyes but it was immediately replaced by the steady expression they bared before. "Very well then," he said, "But you must be certain you are willing to go through with this. I will not play around if I am to teach you. These lessons will not be fun and games." She nodded promptly. But suddenly she remembered why she was there in the first place. She had been on duty before all of this had happened. If they'd discovered she was missing, they would be very worried. Noticing the tension on her face, Erik asked, "What is the matter?"

"What about my duties at the opera house?" she asked.

"You will continue your work there for now. We can't let any suspicions arise." He paused for a moment and then continued, "And don't tell anyone of your visits here. My whereabouts as of now are unknown. If the fools at the opera house were to find out my secrets, terrible things might happen."

She wasn't quite sure what he meant by _terrible things_ but she did not ask questions. There were so many questions that she wanted to ask but she feared upsetting him. Just by asking his name he'd seemed upset. She supposed all things would be revealed in time.

He stood with hesitance and finally said, "Come, I will show you the way back. They will be missing you." She nodded and followed his lead.

He led her across the lake in a boat he had stationed on the edge of the water and through a series of tunnels. After walking for a long time along a dark path, she saw a light up ahead. He walked toward the faint light and pressed his face against the wall it was coming from. At last, he backed away and said, "It is safe for you to enter the room." Caressa looked through the wall as well and noticed that on the other side was the room she'd collapsed in. They must have been looking through the mirror on the wall. He grasped her shoulder gently and turned her towards him. In that brief moment, there seemed to be great longing in his eyes. "I will retrieve you tomorrow afternoon. Remember, do not speak a word of this."

She nodded again as he looked through the mirror once more. He gave it a gentle push and it opened like a door. "Goodbye," she said quietly.

He did not respond until she had crossed through the door. "Goodbye, Caressa" he whispered. A look of wonder crossed her face before he shut the door behind her. As he descended the path down to the lake, he went over what just happened in his mind. Maybe he was wrong to start something like this. But he could not help it. He did not tell her this but the highlight of his day had become hearing her sing while she worked. He didn't want to intervene but he soon found himself singing along with her. It was not wise for him to get involved with the people who came to or worked in the opera. But she was not like other people. She hadn't seemed afraid of him and she spoke his name so gently in her sweet voice. It was the first time he'd ever heard his name spoken in such a way. But he knew he must not get involved in anything deeper than teaching her. He was walking a fine line already. As he reached the lake, he jumped into the boat and kicked off the shore, crossing the waters back to his lair.


	3. Chapter Two

For the first time in her life, the time she'd spent at the opera that day had been restless and apprehensive. She waited in great unease for the evening and kept her eyes and ears open. He'd merely said he would retrieve her—he hadn't said how. She'd kept her promise and hadn't mentioned what had happened the night before. Luckily, she hadn't even been missed and she didn't have to conjure up some excuse for her absence. Still, she couldn't avoid Cecile who was very aware that something was different about her.

"What are you so nervous about?" Cecile asked as they were cleaning the auditorium that evening.

"Nervous?" Caressa returned, not sounding very convincing.

"Yes, nervous. You've been jittery all evening."

"Well, I haven't noticed."

Cecile dropped the matter though she still seemed unconvinced. "Well, will you do me a favor? I need to go and check the boxes on the grand tier but I shall be here all night if I must do that too."

"Sure," she answered, glad to break away from the others. Before she left, she paused and turned around. "If my duties are completed, I suppose I will leave after checking the boxes."

"Very well, if you are finished," Cecile answered.

"I shall see you tomorrow then," Caressa said, smiling the best smile she could manage.

"Yes," Cecile replied, eyeing her suspiciously.

Escaping Cecile's prying gaze, Caressa turned and swiftly walked away. Once in the foyer, she climbed the grand staircase to the top floor. This was a side of the opera house she seldom saw. Only the very wealthy obtained the box seats. Taking her time, she stepped into each one, checking that they were clean and orderly. Her heart beating quickly, she stepped into box five, Erik's box. It was vacant and in order, just as the others had been. Feeling slightly let down, she left the box and moved onto the next one. Perhaps she'd imagined her meeting with the phantom, her angelic-voiced teacher. She could be quite impractical at times. But still, she remembered everything so clearly. Perhaps he simply couldn't teach her that night. "Things do happen," her mother had always said.

She stopped suddenly as she entered box six. "_Caressa__,"_ a tender voice called, the voice that could belong to none other than Erik, the phantom. She spun around and looked behind her but there was no one there. Wondering if she was just hearing things, she turned around and was startled when he was standing before her. His tall, thin frame towered over hers several inches. His radiant blue eyes glinted, one in the shadow of that white half-mask. "Come quickly before we are seen," he said, grasping her hand.

Together they walked stealthily down the hallway of the grand tier. Erik stopped abruptly and placed a hand on the wall. Pushing it gently, the wall slid away revealing a hidden passageway. Taking her hand once again, he led her down the dimly lit path. He didn't say a word the entire trip down through the dark, dank hidden passage. Soon, she found they'd ended up at the hidden underground lake. Helping her into the boat moored at the water's edge, Erik climbed in as well and they began gently gliding across the murky water.

Once reaching the other side of the lake, Erik jumped out of the boat, took Caressa's hand and helped her out as well. As he strode away from her and took a seat at his organ, he said, "I did not hear you singing as you worked today."

Staying put, she answered rather reluctantly, "I was nervous."

"What, may I ask, were you nervous about?" he asked, turning to face her.

She hesitated, searching for an answer. "I'm not sure," she said.

He stared at her momentarily before turning to face the organ once again. "Well, a successful opera singer does not have _nerves_." Noticing she was still standing in the same spot since they'd arrived, he said, "Come over here and stand so that we may begin your first lesson, if indeed you are here to learn." Somewhat confused by his seemingly ill temper, she walked quickly to stand by his side, beginning her lesson.

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As she finished singing, he spun around in his seat to face her. "Remarkable," he said. "You are truly blessed with an amazing talent."

She smiled bashfully and said, "I believe I owe my talents to my mother."

Interested, he asked, "How so?"

Caressa gazed at the lake serenely as she began her story. "When I was very young, my mother would always sing songs to me from the operas in town. She had a truly remarkable voice. I could sit and listen to her sing for hours on end. Sometimes I would sing along with her as we did the house chores. As I grew older and she listened to my voice she would tell me, 'One day child, you will make the whole world's hearts sing.' I never believed her to be telling the truth though. After all, all mothers tell their children what they want to hear."

Looking slightly disagreeable, Erik asked, "And what became of her?"

"She passed on of illness a few years back. I truly do miss her. But I like to think that when I sing, I am singing to her. I hope that maybe she can hear my voice in heaven."

A look of sadness on Erik's face, he gently touched her cheek and he answered, "She can, my child. Believe me, she can. All of heaven can hear your voice."

She stood there looking into his melancholy eyes, feeling his warm gentle hand on her cheek. She felt like love was generating from that hand into her body, nearly making her swoon. At last, she broke free of his spell and asked, "Am I to return tomorrow."

Seeming dumbstruck, he hesitated momentarily before answering, "Yes, you are to return every night. I will come to retrieve you around the time I did this night." He paused a moment longer before saying, "Come, I will show you where we are to meet."

He led her once again through a passage that she was unfamiliar with. She wondered how he ended up living beneath the opera house, using all these secret paths that no one knew of save him. Taking her around the lake instead of across, she soon found herself at a doorway that led to the streets outside. He turned to face her before opening the door. "Stay safe on your journey home. The streets are crueler at night," he said.

She smiled gently and answered, "I will."

He opened the door which seemed to blend into the wall. A rush of cold, winter air came through, making her shiver. As she started to leave, he called out, "Goodnight, Caressa."

She turned back to face him but he had disappeared.


End file.
